Somewhere I Belong
by Jodie1
Summary: A group of wanders come to Mirkwood, and one looks familar to Thranduil.
1. Default Chapter

Person responsible: Jodie (Padawan of the Anonymous Torture Fic Writer)  
  
Electronic mail: irish_elf_princess07@yahoo.com  
  
Designation: Somewhere I Belong  
  
Summery: Ok my first fic, lest say that these wandering rogues who are ok people but they've got very bad reps. So when they show up in Mirkwood Thranduil decides to turn them over to what ever authorities, only someone looks very familiar. ;] Can you guess whom?  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Declaimer: I own nothing! Yes I'm just a poor hood-rat and Tolkin is God. I'm just playin' in his sandbox. "Somewhere I Belong" song, and lyrics belong to Linkin Park. This Story is not for profit.  
  
Author's Note: First of all I got pressured into writing this. I don't think Thranduil is a bad guy, its just my sister can take off one or more of my limbs. There will be another fic coming soon, which puts Thranduil back in the good light.  
  
Note on the Text: Elvis is translated in bold in between [ ]. **Memories** ~~Flashbacks~~  
  
The elf boy looked familiar, he dressed entirely in black, black ragged tunic, black boots, black leggings, black, hooded cloak. He appeared to be no more then 170 years of age, the equivalent of a 18 year-old human. His bleak colored attire only jarred with his long tresses that looked like they had been spun from fine gold, caught up in a ponytail. His eyes were silvery-blue, and cold.  
  
Cold as the bitterest day of winter.  
  
He struggled viciously as he was dragged to the Thorin cell. It was more secure he and his others had proved that these types of rogues would need special surveillance.  
  
Thranduil entered the cell and asked him. "Who are you, why are you in my kingdom?"  
  
The young elf seemed as if he had been turned to stone. He would not speak, or even for a moment seemed not to breathe.  
  
"Why did you threaten my people?" The King asked the anger clear in his voice.  
  
The younger elf's eyes flashed with ire, "We didn't threaten anyone!" He said with rage, "We were just stopping for the night!"  
  
"There's no reason to believe you," The Sovereign said, "Or any of the Daenore." [Shadow people]  
  
The other wouldn't respond, he just stared coldly, the only thing about that seemed alive were his eyes. But even they were seemed clouded with ice, and, it seemed, a whisper of hidden anguish.  
  
Fed up with this one Thranduil left. The prisoner seemed lifeless with something, some kind of grief, anger, and not belonging. 


	2. Chapter Two: Escape, save one

Hi I'm back with chapter two,  
  
Declaimer-I grovel at the feet of the Almighty Tolkin!!  
  
You wonderful reviewers!!!  
  
I'm giving you all a big wet kiss, MMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Oh, if you haven't read The Hobbit, The trapdoor in the cellar is where they toss out old barrels; it's an underground stream that leads back outside to the Forest River where the gates are.  
  
~ ~Flashbacks~ ~ **Memories**  
  
Chapter Two  
  
~ ~ "What are we going to do?"  
  
"Calm down Randel." The blonde elf opposite said most serenely.  
  
"How can be so calm, when were locked in here like beasts?!"  
  
He looked about, and then softly went to the cells barred doors. The guard didn't notice him, and with tempo that no man's eye could follow, his hand shot out and the rouge planted his thumb into the underside the guard's jaw. The sentry collapse as consciousness left him.  
  
The conscious elf took a spine from the floor inserted it into the lock on the door. The others came over as the lock clicked open.  
  
"You're a talented fugitive, elf." Sarnach said to him. "Just one thing, how are we going to get out of these caves?"  
  
"Come on." He smirked and led the way down a twisting stairway.  
  
Walking on they came out of the narrow tunnel to cellar. They crept to where they could get a view of a trapdoor.  
  
"See that?" he asked and pointed.  
  
"It looks like a trapdoor, elf." Silloss said, "And those look like guards."  
  
"Rochwen, Silloss, " the elf said, "Put everyone in two groups and wait for the guards to get distracted. Then go to the trapdoor. It will take you to the Forest River."  
  
"What about you?" Rochwen asked with inquiry, and concern in her voice. He was well known for pulling crazy stunts that almost killed him.  
  
"I'm the distraction. I'll meet you at camp." He reassured. "Now get moving."  
  
They obeyed grudgingly and waited around a turn. The lone one went to the opposite side of them. Then whistled loud as he could. Then as the guards chased him Rochwen and Silloss led everyone out and safely back to camp. ~ ~  
  
*** Was there no way out of here?!?!  
  
His left arm throbbed suddenly. It sometimes still did that. Nothing unusual, the laceration had never healed right, and it still acted up every now and again. But the pain it caused was more then physical when it did that.  
  
"I need to get out of here, and quick." He thought to himself. But in the innermost cell, how could he? Enough of the odds though, he didn't want to meet with him again, though, after all this time it would be nice to give him a piece of his mind.  
  
TBC 


	3. Cahpter Three: Hello Father

Chapter Three  
  
~For general ramblings see first chapter.~  
  
When this began  
  
I had nothing to say  
  
And I'd get lost in the nothingness inside of me  
  
I was confused  
  
And I'd let it all out to find  
  
That I'm not the only person with these things in mind  
  
Inside of me  
  
When all the vacancy the words revealed  
  
Is the only real thing that I've got left to feel  
  
Nothing to loose  
  
Just stuck, hollow and alone  
  
And the fault is my own and the fault is my own  
  
I wanna heal  
  
I wanna feel  
  
What I thought was never real  
  
I want to let go of the pain I felt so long  
  
Erase all the pain till its gone  
  
I wanna heal  
  
I wanna feel  
  
Like Im close to something real  
  
I want to find something I've wanted all along  
  
Somewhere I belong - Linkin Park "Somewhere I belong"  
  
~*~  
  
"One last time, who are you?"  
  
"Doesn't matter, just let me go." His antagonism was rising to grave heights.  
  
"Where are the rest of you?"  
  
"You honestly think I'm going to tell you?" He almost laughed.  
  
"It would be easier if you would. on all of us. Now tell me where your little rouge friends are."  
  
"Were not rouges! We never did anything to anyone, do just listen to rumors? What kind of king are you?"  
  
Rage exploded in Thranduil, not thinking he raised his arm to back hand the prisoner, but an arm came up stopping the wallop. The sleeve of the captive fell passed his elbow in this act, and a sickening, grotesque, and lengthy scar was exposed.  
  
It was very long, trailing from his wrist to the middle of his upper arm. It was old, but ruff, large stitches still held the two severed pieces of flesh together.  
  
** The pain filled cry filled Thranduil's ears as the steel sunk in and the warm blood began to flow.**  
  
The prisoner stepped pack from the king, his eyes full of menace.  
  
** His left arm throbbed mercilessly. Taking a look at it he tried not to grimace at it. Desiccated blood crusted all-around the laceration, it had to be sewn up or he would bleed to death.  
  
Sitting next a stream he found a somewhat sharp pointed piece of rock. Hitting it against another rock it became like a needle, but it was not as sharp as most needles, but would have to do. Tearing a stitch out of the sleeve of his tunic, he loosened the thread until it came out. Repeating this procedure several times until he had all he needed, he tied them together, and knotted the other end several times. Securing one end of the thread to the end of the makeshift needle he prepared himself for the rough part.  
  
Placing the sharpest end against his skin, he ground his teeth and gasped from pain as the tip sunk into his flesh.  
  
Feeling around under his skin to keep track of where the needle was, he worked it up his arm in a crisscross configuration. With holding his screams as he got to the sensitive crux of his joint, the blood still gushed from the unsown part on his tricep.  
  
Finally it was done, panting he looped the needle into a pervious stitch and tightened it into a knot, then broke off the left over thread with his teeth. The bleeding finally stopped and he washed his burning arm in the steam's welcoming, crystal, and cool water.  
  
Tearing off what was left of his left sleeve and wrapped up the suture. His vision was blurry from blood loss, and, finally, he yielded to his body's wanting, and blacked out.**  
  
~*~  
  
His eyes still had there cold, menacing look, but with a flash of revelation, Thranduil's mind went to painting that hung in his chambers, it was a picture of his wife who had died centuries ago. Her eyes, slivery- gray.  
  
"Who are you?" He asked again.  
  
The captive exhaled deeply. "You have a scar on your right shoulder." He said.  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"I gave it to you, remember, the night you almost killed me? I grabbed the dagger off the wall."  
  
Thranduil was stunned into silence, but found one name.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
"Hello Father." 


	4. Chapter Four: Young and Hopeless

~Looks in inbox, jaw drops~  
  
Wow, look at all these reviews.  
  
Ok got to answer some questions,  
  
Banksie108- It skips around because I'm going to memories and flash backs to tell the story, like I said ** These are memories** and ~ ~ These are flashbacks~ ~ elvish is translated in between [ ] And there is only one captive who is Legolas.  
  
Happytohelpyou- Thankyou for the info, I have no idea how elf reckoning works, I just wanted him around 17 or 18, and I know that anything ending in wen is a girls name, and Rochwen is a girl.  
  
Mirah and Mad Catter- the Linkin Park song will work don't worry, im working on it. I know it's choppy, but bare with me, I'm trying to put in stuff from years ago and hours ago to tell what happened!  
  
Lady of Legolas and Ryoko- thank you for all of your reviews!! (P.S. I used to sit in a tree pretend I was Robin Hood too, Ryoko. Despite the obvious fact that I'm female)  
  
All of you other wonderful reviewers I'm giving you a huge wet kiss  
  
MMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!  
  
Again ** Memories** ~ ~Flashbacks~ ~  
  
P.S. I put in a Good Charlotte song in this chapter, please try not to get confused, The Linkin' Park song will probably make more sense at the end. Oh I'm so terrible at making things making sense!  
  
CHAPTER FOUR: Young and Hopeless  
  
"And if I make it thru today will tomorrow be the same  
  
Am I just running in place?  
  
If I stumble and I fall  
  
Should I get up and carry on or will it all just be the same?  
  
'Cause, I'm young and hopeless  
  
I'm lost and I know this  
  
I'm going nowhere fast that's what they say  
  
I'm troublesome, I've fallen  
  
I'm angry at my father  
  
It's me against this world and I don't care, I don't care"-Good Charlotte The Young and the Hopeless  
  
It couldn't be him.  
  
But he thought back to his wife's, Atarwen's, portrait.  
  
The prisoner had the exact same silvery-blue eyes, no one else had eyes like that, they were a hereditary trait. She had gotten them from her mother. And he had gotten them from his.  
  
"You look shocked." Legolas' voice was hollow and menacing.  
  
"I thought you were dead." Thranduil said incredulity still on his face.  
  
"Almost, I nearly died many times, when we attacked by orcs, then we almost drowned, and when you blamed me and almost cut my heart out!"  
  
"I don't remember what happened I-"  
  
"Almost kill someone, and then you forget, that's not very gracious."  
  
"I woke up and you were gone."  
  
"Think about would have happened if I stayed!"  
  
"I don't know," Thranduil said and meant it.  
  
"Neither did I, and I didn't want to find out!" He backed away.  
  
The ire in the younger elf's eyes was absolute, and Thranduil backed out of the cell before he figured he lost a limb.  
  
~*~  
  
Legolas' mind wandered in memories,  
  
** "Stay down amin untinu. [my son]. Atarwen said, ushering her young son into the underbrush. He was only about the same as 10-year-old human. They were planning on an enjoyable outing together, now it may cost them their lives.  
  
Orcs.  
  
They had no weapons, and were alone. They had to hide. They were near a river and there was some brush to hide in hopefully they would be unnoticed. Keeping low to the ground they tried to keep their breath calm.  
  
The last of them went by, but.  
  
Something grabbed them from behind. "Look what I found!" The orc announced to his comrades.  
  
~*~  
  
"Sire! We found them!" A guard yelled running up to the sovereign.  
  
"Where are they?!"  
  
"The healers just brought them in. but-" He couldn't finish as Thranduil went to find them.  
  
~*~  
  
"Please, I would not go in there, she's- she's been through a lot the past month."  
  
Thranduil didn't listen and charged the door. O Valar no.was it truly her?  
  
She lay on her bed, her fair hair was matted brown with blood and cuts and bruises covered her face, her clothes were damp. Her skin was ashen; her beautiful sliver cast blue eyes were clouded.  
  
"Atarwen?" He called softly, kneeling next to her. She moaned. "Melamin,[my love] what did they-?"  
  
"Legolas." she called weakly, "W-where is he?"  
  
"Shh.it's all right, you're home, and you're safe." He tried to soothe.  
  
"No.no!.they took him.where is he?!" She tried to sit up but hadn't the strength to hardly lift her finger. Thranduil tried to calm her down, but in vain, and she grew slowly wilder, calling and crying for the safety of her only child.  
  
Then suddenly, she started to calm. She lay so still, her eyes.there was nothing in them.the light of Life had gone from them.  
  
"Melamin." he said, tears spilled over and trailed down his face.  
  
~*~  
  
"My lord," Galion knocked on the doors, no answer he took a chance and entered. He knew what had happened when he walked in. He felt that grisly sense of Death in the room. Thranduil was by her, with head bent. The old butler placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." He murmured. He exhaled deeply and went to subject that brought him here.  
  
"Milord, your son, he's requesting you."  
  
No reaction.  
  
"My lord.will you go to your son."  
  
'My son.' Thranduil thought, she had died calling for him.for Him.why?  
  
~*~  
  
Ok I know the ending to this chapter sucks but I'm battling writers block, so bear with me again! 


	5. A Brief Note From Writer

Ok guys lets straiten some things out a little,  
  
First of all for those of you not acquainted with the art of Knapping, it is where you bang rocks together to make knifes, arrow heads and such, these things can be amazingly sharp.  
  
For an example here's one of experiences, I'm outside with my tools and I'm working on knife, suddenly, I see blood, lots of blood! I look down and see that I have cut myself on my elbow, and I am bleeding rather badly.  
  
Mother comes out and freaks, I'm feeling woozy; we dash off to Emergency Room, and I need stitches because I had cut open a vein in my arm.  
  
And so if you find the right rock, you can stitch up a wound with it!  
  
Next, I know this plot is kinda choppy, and would like a poll of all those who think I should rewrite the chapters. Just sent it in on reviews or E- mail me at irish_elf_princess07@yahoo.com. Thank you! 


	6. Chapter Six: Escape

Ok chapter 6 here we go, I'm listing to "Lose Yourself" so I'm all pumped up and ready to go!  
  
Chapter Six: Escape  
  
Legolas pulled himself out of his thoughts and concentrated on finding a way out.  
  
Thorin cell, it was going to be hard to get out of here. It was set deep in the ground so there were so faults in the walls and there was no way to escape the way he had before. They were too wary for that now, and the cell's doors were thick oak ones, not bars like before.  
  
An idea didn't form until his hearing was alerted to a noise..It was water sloshing.. It was coming from below his feet.  
  
So not to draw attention to himself, he started to tap the floor with his foot, until he found what he was looking for, a spot that sounded hollow. There were no tools present, only a lantern, it would do.  
  
First blowing out the flame and took the heavy base off. Working in the dark he felt around on the floor he found a thin cleft that followed in a square configuration. Using the lamp base as a hammer until the small section of floor fell in, and there was a way out.  
  
It was a narrow squeeze even for him, and he dropped down in calf-deep water. This must be a reeve for the stream. Feeling his way around and moved forward. The water was icy and it rose as he went on.  
  
Legolas didn't see some light until the water was up to neck. The stream ended at wall with a hole for the water to flow through, but it wasn't big enough for anything but water. The light was coming from above him from the corners of a trap door. There were footholds leading up to the door.  
  
It wasn't the easiest thing to the climb up, but he reached the top in a rather short time. He pushed open the trapdoor and pulled himself out. His wet clothes and hair clung limply and clammily to him.  
  
The other door he needed to get to wasn't far away. then he heard people, they apparently found out that he had escaped his cell and they were searching. He quickened his pace.  
  
He reached the trapdoor and in his haste he didn't notice the footsteps approaching.  
  
Legolas looked up and saw Thranduil.  
  
Their eyes met for only a moment or two.. the king did not call to anyone. Legolas then seemed to realize where he was before making his escape.. and jumped into the cold water below.  
  
~*~  
  
The water was still freezing and it numbed him for a moment before he stared to swim for it.  
  
The chill cut through Legolas like a knife and it seem to be forever before he came to the mouth of the stream outlet.  
  
The current of the Forest River was strong but he managed to get to the other bank. He rested a brief moment, his breath fast and his lips a pale azure.  
  
'Why did he let be go?' He thought.  
  
There no time for thought now though he had to get back.  
  
~*~  
  
"Nikerym! (Captain) Its Legolas!" Rochwen yelled from her watch.  
  
"It is?!" Celebdur came up to her, "Thank the Valor he's alive I'm going to kill him!  
  
Legolas came up and was stopped by Celebdur as he came into camp.  
  
"What were you thinking?!" The elder yelled at him, "Setting yourself up as a clay pigeon! Could have gotten yourself killed!  
  
"He was worried sick about you." Rochwen cut in.  
  
"Not sick," He corrected, "Well, what have you got to say for yourself?!"  
  
"Nikerym-" Legolas stated to say.  
  
"I don't want to hear it!" The elder bellowed "Well go get some dry clothes on before you before catch pneumonia."  
  
~*~  
  
After changing into dry clothes, Legolas meet up with Celebdur for his lecture.  
  
"Now what's your excuse this time?" He asked.  
  
"It's better that I get harmed, then a dozen."  
  
"That's always your answer, how many times have you almost killed yourself with that motto, there was that fire,  
  
"It wasn't exactly an inferno-"  
  
"Fighting a legion of orcs on your own,"  
  
"It was hardly two dozen-"  
  
"And that notorious leap off a waterfall!"  
  
"It wasn't that big-"  
  
"If I didn't know better I'd say were trying to kill yourself! Buts that's not what I wanted to talk to you about,"  
  
"What is it then?"  
  
"When everyone got back they said you knew nearly every inch of that place. Almost like you worked, or lived there before. You want to tell me what's going on?"  
  
"Not really." Legolas said and tried to go, to no avail.  
  
"You never told anyone where you're from.. Mirkwood?"  
  
"Yeah.."  
  
"Who's you're parents?"  
  
He walked off.  
  
TBC  
  
I know another evil cliffie! 


	7. Chapter Seven: Mirkwood Prince

I'm back! Thought I was dead didn't you!  
  
Hopefully the song lyrics will start to work now.  
  
Chapter Seven: Mirkwood Prince  
  
"When this began  
  
I had nothing to say  
  
And I get lost in the nothingness inside of me  
  
I was confused  
  
And I let it all out to find  
  
That I'm not the only person with these things in mind  
  
Inside of me  
  
But all the vacancy the words revealed  
  
Is the only real thing that I've got left to feel  
  
Nothing to lose  
  
Just stuck  
  
hollow and alone  
  
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own  
  
I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real  
  
I wanna let go of the pain I've felt so long  
  
Erase all the pain till it's gone  
  
I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm close to something real  
  
I wanna find something I've wanted all along  
  
Somewhere I belong" - Linkin Park  
  
It wasn't until the next day that Legolas meet up with Celebdur again.  
  
Again he wanted an answer explanation.  
  
The captain ushered the elf into his tent the elf had looked better, the fact was he had not had much sleep last night, "Now, what's going on?"  
  
"Nothing, I just...worked there..."  
  
"I don't believe you, Legolas, you never really struck me as the house-boy type."  
  
"It's the truth-!"  
  
"I can see through any lie my people tell me, Legolas, I thought you would that, how long have you been here?...probably near the longest of all of them. And you're the only one's story I don't really know."  
  
"Well you know it now," Legolas wanted frantically to end the interrogation, "I worked at the palace until my parents died."  
  
"What about that little cut on your arm? You were almost dead from it when we first found you." Celebdur said with cantankerous, not believing one word that came from the elf's mouth.  
  
"It...was an... accident." He said not desiring and able not to look at the repugnant rupture on his skin, it virtually always veiled beneath a long shirtsleeve.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"You can believe what!" Legolas shouted unexpectedly with aggravation.  
  
As he turned to leave, Celebdur went to his small bundle of belongings, he reached into a tiny pouch on the bag's side and withdrew a small trinket.  
  
Celebdur walked up behind Legolas, and put his arm out to stop the elf. Legolas noticed a small light in the captain's hand.  
  
Between his forefinger and thump the man held a small sliver loop.  
  
"Before you go, I was wondering if you would recognize this ring." Celebdur said. "A 12-year old Elvin boy wore this, I don't know what happened to him, but I thought you, being an elf from Mirkwood, might know who he was, because when I looked at the inside of the band," He turned the ring and engraved on the inside of the band was a stylized leaf of a classical form. "I thought I had seen this symbol before, somewhere in Mirkwood, but I wasn't sure..."  
  
The elf gazed at the diminutive silver thing, as if it were a gorgon's head that had turned him to stone, coyly and slowly lifted his hand to touch it.  
  
His forefinger brushed it ever so slightly, but the instant the elf touched the bands slick sliver he acted as if were made fire and not metal.  
  
"No!... I don't." And he pushed away the hand that held it out of the way.  
  
The thrust was brisk and Celebdur lost his soft grip on the ring and clinked on the floor.  
  
After Legolas had gone Celebdur knelt by the ground where the small ring had fallen. He picked it up with a sigh; he fingered the bauble and did not know what to make of the state of affairs.  
  
"What happened to you, Mirkwood Prince?" he muttered.  
  
TBC  
  
'Nother evil Cliffie! 


	8. Chapter Eight: Revelation

Ok I'm back again! Believe it or not there is another chapter!  
  
And here it is!!  
  
Chapter Eight: Revelation  
  
Thranduil entered his chambers with a heavy step.  
  
Sitting on a low, green divan the Elvin king tried to think.  
  
He did not remember much, and he didn't even know why he couldn't remember. He could remember being told that his wife and son were gone...captured by those horrid beings.  
  
Searching....searching....and searching. A month gone by....being advised to give up....  
  
They were found!.... Atarwen....the woman he had loved more then anyone in his life....she was dead.  
  
The memories began to fuzz here....Galion's voice: "Will you go to him?".... Who?.... Galion's voice again; "Your son-"....didn't move, couldn't .... He had stayed by his wife's deathbed until he was all but driven mad by his own grief...it had consumed him.  
  
Then....then....then....  
  
//No! It couldn't be! He wouldn't let himself remember! But the forgotten past kept coming, to fast to stop it. Unstoppable like a waterfall, it refused to stop coming. //  
  
The woodland lord went to his wife's drawing room....the moon's light spilled through the tall windows, casting agitated shadows on the furnishings and books, especially on the large hearth of a polished white marble....it felt like a burial ground, like walking through a place that which is haunted by troubled, wandering, lost sprits....there was a faint flicker, like a candle flame when it is been drown by the wax that's been melted around it, and about to go out forever....  
  
//No!! No!! No!! No!! No!! No!! It's not true! It's not true! It's not true! It Is Not True!!//  
  
....He moved a few, silent steps forward; saw a small form sitting in the cushioned chair that was Atarwen's favorite opposite the fireplace....He stepped forward again....the obscure form began faintly to materialize....It looked like it was made of little dots...The dots slowly, slowly started to have substance...the pale illumination made the light yellow hair seem even more flaxen; almost silver, like polished chrome....  
  
.... The continued to come together....they formed a willowy physique settled deeply against the cushions of the chair.... the large feathery cushions almost swallowed the lithe frame, the legs were resting on the seat of the chair pulled together resting lengthways on the seat....right arm was stiff, the hand tucked under the legs holding them in place, left arm and hand was limp; resting on the lap....shoulders were latent squarely on the back cushion but turned just ever so slightly to accommodate the turn of the neck....the head turned, he could see the tip of the leaf shaped ear protruding out from the lose locks of pale gold....  
  
....The face materialized from the haze of dark dots....one side partly hidden; turned the cheek resting on the chair's back...silvery blue eyes; calm, in the peace of sleep....  
  
....Pain from the last days, choking the Elvin lord, all the pain of her death....her cry's....cry's for the small being in front of him...she refused calm....it had killed her....  
  
//No! By the Valar NO! //  
  
....The anger....sweeping the away the pain like floodwater....the anger....the thing in his hand....his fingers tightening around it.... his arm coming up.... the thing coming down....blue eyes, suddenly alert....  
  
//NONONO//  
  
....The small form in the chair moved....his target disoriented....but the sharp medal did sink into flesh....  
  
//NO//  
  
....Screaming....screaming from pain....the small elf tried to pull away....only making it worse....the blade moving down his arm....tried to pull away....the blade moved jaggedly from his upper arm to his wrist before finally coming out....blood spilled....fat scarlet beads falling to the floor....staining what ever they collapsed on deep crimson color....  
  
//No! //  
  
....Everything a blur of motion.... a maddening rotting his brain....a mad wanting not to give up his quarry.... saw pain and fear burn themselves into two sapphires with silver settings....  
  
//no...//  
  
....A pain moved into his own body....a sharp stab in his shoulder....falling....hearing two feet running.... glass- breaking....blackness....  
  
Thranduil came back from the memories.  
  
Breathing hard, like a person trapped underwater and had finally swam to the surface, it couldn't have been true!!  
  
It couldn't have!! It couldn't have!!  
  
His knees felt weak, his strength drained from him, but they supported him as he stood. Quick as summer lightning, he went to the heavy oaken doors of his chambers. Using what power that was left in his limbs; he wrapped both his hands around the door handle, knitting his fingers together. With one great effort, the doors cracked opened.  
  
Going out into the hall outside his chambers, Thranduil went down the long hall, his footsteps falling and echoing in the empty passage like a ghost haunting a lonely way, till he turned into a forgotten corridor, soon faced a pair of doors.  
  
He stopped in front of them....paralyzed. Feeling his breath hitch, Thranduil nearly turned back.  
  
// "No! Don't you dare turn around you fool! You must go in! You have to find out!"// This mind screamed at him.  
  
Thranduil pressed his hands flat against the wood of the doors, he pushed one opened one just a crack; its hinges groaning from long disuse. He slipped inside them with the feelings that one has when walking into a hungry dragon's lair.  
  
The room was cold from a broken window, dust had settled everywhere like smoke on a carpet. Old leaves from years of autumns come and gone had blown in from the shattered window and strewn themselves on the floor like wounded things looking for a place to die. They skirted around the room in a breeze, their hardened tips marring the white coating of dust ever so slightly, leaving weird patterns. The hearths marble was now dull and dry as bones. Old ashes were now black and hardened like petrified wood.  
  
The chair next to it had been skated back, with great force, and a long time ago....black smudges from where it had skinned the oiled wood floor's surface were covered with a fine dust. So were the red blotches near it....  
  
Thranduil felt his legs turn to wood, he was not aware of actually walking over to the chair, but it came closer. His eyes swept over the floor....the red, small, round pools on the floor had dried to a near black, fine cracks ran over them, some having flaked a few specks reveling the stained wood underneath.  
  
His legs finally gave out under him, and he fell to his knees. Forcing his eyes to look up at the chair, everything was now confirmed.  
  
A cushion from its arm had fallen to floor; the body of it was stained with a fine red mist.  
  
Laying near the chair....still sitting in it's dried puddle....dark maroon stains on its shiny medal....laid a small dagger.  
  
Reeling from the shock and shame, Thranduil swayed to the side falling over, sitting on the cold floor, his face buried in his hands.  
  
"Oh Elbreth, forgive me, what did I do him? What did I do to Legolas, my own son?"  
  
There! All done!  
  
Would start next chapter, but must get in shower. (I don't care if you can't smell me through cyber space; I'm washing my layer of filth off before I start the next one!)  
  
See yaws!! 


	9. Chapter Nine: 'The star no longer sang'

I've written the next chapter!!!!!!!!!  
  
Aren't you proud of me? I was able to drag myself out the tub! (My fingers are just a little pruney now :-)  
  
One thing before I start, in the last chapter it isn't that Thranduil is just starting to feel bad about this, it's just that he has finally remembered what happened. Don't ask me how he could forget something like that, I was sitting in my psychology class half asleep and learned that some people tend block out and forget things that happened to them. People do that you know. One more thing, my computer is a dyslexic and I can't always get those little dots and dashes over letters like you're supposed to. Stupid computer!!!!  
  
Farflung, thank you so much! A swift kick in the backside and a little ego rub, exactly what I needed!  
  
Well to the story!!  
  
Chapter Nine: The Stars No Longer Sang  
  
'You knew this would happen if any of us got caught.' Celebdur conscious beleaguered him. 'You know all the rumors that spread about us.'  
  
"What was I trying to prove?" The captain asked himself, "That I could bring at lest one of them back?" He exited his small tent, going out into clearing where their camp was. "I'm a fool," He muttered to himself, "Even worse an old fool..."  
  
It was a bright, full moon out, and he clearly saw his people. Some set up small traveling tents, while others simply spread their bedrolls on the ground. Why were so many rumors spread about them? All they were we're outcasts. Wandering outcasts, in way, they really were shadow people. Shadows of humanity. With nowhere to call home or to go.  
  
They were a varied people, elves, men, dwarfs, hobbits, the only thing that untied them were the fact that were the shadows of Middle Earth. Abandons, runaways, and the unwanted...just the people that were tucked away, out of sight and out of mind...that's why he had gathered them together, to show them that they were never alone, and most were glad. And had found somewhere and people to belong. All accept one...  
  
Celebdur went to find that one, he found his bedroll and, as usual it was under a tree, though it was empty. Automatically he looked into the ancient beeches limbs it took a moment or so to find him, he always blended in well with the forests. Woodelves!  
  
He lay on his back, on a branch nearly broad as a bench, his hands folded upon his breast, his eyes unclosed staring at the night's sky.  
  
The captain knew the ways of elvish sleep, and assumed the ladler. He would save his thoughts for another day.  
  
~*~  
  
The footsteps under the beech faded and finally melted away into the night. Legolas sat up and rested his back against the bark of the tree, gazing forlornly at the moon pale light. The camp was as still as a churchyard, the moon's silvery light left agitated shadows on the tree's limbs and leaves, and on the camp below. His thoughts drifted to former years, when the moon's chrome finished light did not hold such melancholy memories.  
  
Orcs fear the light of the sun....that's why they always waited to have their 'fun' until the moon's light showed....  
  
Was there a day when these memories didn't flood back to him?  
  
Sounds, shapes and shadows whirled like a tempest inside of his head.  
  
Menacing growls and snarlings....the orcs hated elves, probably remembering what they and their ancestors used to be.  
  
Legolas felt his breath hitch, his chest felt hollow. He couldn't bring himself to sleep; he never slept well anymore in years. They were always there when he slept. He stared through the thick masses of leaves at the blips of moonlight that shyly showed themselves.  
  
A small zephyr breezed its airy dance through boughs, hiding the moon but showing the stars. The bright Evening Star shined.  
  
Earendil was no comfort to him.  
  
His soul's song was a lament, and the stars no longer sang........  
  
Fatigue's somnolent began to tug at his eyes......every night was like this, begging himself not to fall asleep, but never victorious.  
  
His fair head leaned back against the bark, and his eyes stilled.  
  
/////Light and darkness, shape and shadow, dampness, musky moldy scents infested themselves in his senses. It was a cave......but not like at home.......it was so dark, the stone was dead and damp. The air was so close and stale. Where were they? Why were they here?  
  
Some things were cold and heavy and cold on his wrists....... Two heavy iron manacles hung on his slender wrists. Chains mounted them to the rock wall behind him......there were whole eaten in the ceiling from erosion, starlight shown in.........  
  
Where was he?  
  
.......A blur of memory, the orcs...hiding.........being grabbed by the shoulders from behind......  
  
His eyes widened. Then whipping his head around, his searched desperately.  
  
He found what he was looking for, a form near him in green.  
  
She was leaning with her back to the cold wall, one of her wrists was incased in an iron cuff connected to chain that was fixed to the floor.  
  
Her eyes were closed.  
  
He scooted over to her, saw a long cut on her face, red blotches on her dress.  
  
"Nana?"  
  
No response, but after a few moments, she moaned softly, and her eyelids fluttered open. She was dazed first then she looked to him, and schooled her features. "I'm alright." She said, reading his thoughts perfectly.  
  
There was sudden clink and a rattle of locks, and three horrid creatures stepped into the darkened room.  
  
"Look who's awake." The first one hissed....//  
  
With a quick intake of air and a jolt, Legolas woke.  
  
Nothing new, same every night, he turned his head to look over the camp. Everyone was sleeping peacefully, the light of the stars and moon and from the firelight in the camp cast an eerie glow on the site.  
  
A breeze whistled through the ground and rustled the leaves of the tree, making a gap in them. It showed him the Evening Star. It was, as always, very bright, very beautiful......  
  
And silent as a grave.  
  
I know, short, but hopefully this will tide you over.  
  
I promise, promise, promise to post another chapter soon!!!  
  
I promise!!!! 


	10. Chapter Ten: Hollow and Alone

Wow, chapters are in double digests now!!!  
  
(Thoughtful pause)  
  
Ok, ok I know what you're thinking, shut up and get to the story, well here ya big meanies "cough" raven "cough"............  
  
Chapter Ten: Hollow and Alone  
  
"But all the vacancy The words reveled Is the only real thing I've got left to feel Nothing to lose Just stuck Hollow and alone  
  
And the fault is my own  
  
And the fault is my own"............Linkin' Park  
  
The dawn came slowly, starting as a cold grey mist that hung low on the ground. As the last of moon light faded and the last of night's candles burnt out, (William Shakespeare's line not mine, so don't sue) and the sun's dawning light pierced through the grey mist, the camp began to stir.  
  
"Have you been up all night?" Came the call from the ground, grumbling something inauditable Legolas slid down the beeches branches to the ground.  
  
Rondiath was a tall strong man of 9-and-50, with an aura of masterly authority. His dark hair was shaggy and graying slightly, his eyes were a hard steel color but they could become a soft morning dove grey when the situation called for it. But mostly when it came to matters this particular elf, they were in a tone of when a teaching master when a pupil has done something foolish.  
  
"So, setting yourself up for target practice, *again*." The man said to him, looking down to the elf that was shorter then him by a few half inches and looked back at Rondiath with a slightly impudent gaze of one who awaits lecture.  
  
"Do ever stop to think for one moment that these acts of yours are going to get you killed one day child?" he asked. Although Legolas was at lest a century older then Rondiath, he often used that title when he was annoyed with him. In truth though Rondiath did look much older then him, and also in truth my elven standards Legolas was only the equivalent of seventeen approaching eighteen and his features and stature betrayed the reckoning.  
  
"Well, as the situation was, there were two dozen other people that could have been hurt but I had an idea-"  
  
"You always have an 'idea' Legolas, and your ideas almost always put at odds with things that weld swords!"  
  
"Wouldn't you do the same?" The question was more of an interrogation.  
  
Rondiath looked hard into the young elf's eyes and youthful but worn face. Rondiath knew that his immortal was more then a century his senior, but his face and heart were young, younger then Rondiath's, and also caring wounds that had not closed and healed yet even though he covered the scars well, either with long sleeves or a mask of impassiveness. His only betraying feature was his weathered blue eyes. There silvery overcast lent itself an icy gaze, these eyes that belonged to one who seemed no more then seventeen but any youthful vitality and clarity that should be there were not, and the royal blue visage was marred by suffering. A suffering that is ordinarily not inflicted upon one that was so young, nor should be. It was the kind of suffering that was inflicted by a betrayal. A betrayal that is felt deep, of trust, guidance, and love. The numbness in these sapphire depths seemed almost unimaginable.  
  
"Yes," Rondiath answered the question, "I would do the same." A small, proud grimace flashed across the blue eyes, "But I have never seen someone who invited Death to themselves so willingly as you." He then left Legolas with those words.  
  
~*~  
  
The stream that flowed just outside there camp was sparkling and made the sweetest sounds as it tipped over stones, like the gay laughing of children on a summer's day. Legolas sat beside it looking across the water to the woods of his home, or what had been his home. How long ago had it been? How many years had it been?  
  
//(Flashback) Rondiath was scouting out the new campsite for the night, he thought he saw a small dark object or form to the left of the hollow of beech trees on the northern edges of Mirkwood. Knowing of the beasts that prowled the forests of the Wood, Rondiath drew his sword and cautiously inspected what might be there.  
  
He was shocked to find that it was a boy. Twelve, maybe thirteen years old, he was even more surprised to see that the boy was an elf and unconscious. Trying to wake him, Rondiath shook the boy's shoulder; it wasn't until then that he noticed the blood on the dead leaves around them, and that it came from the young elf's arm.  
  
Rondiath saw that one sleeve of the boy's tunic had been torn off to make a bandage for the laceration on his left arm. Unwrapping the bloodied material from the elf's arm he gasped at the sight. A jagged cut ran from the boy's wrist all the way up to nearly the middle of his upper arm, and it was precariously sewn together with ruff stitches. Blood dripped from the crux of his elbow and from points on his forearm, the skin just around the laceration was red and burning with on infection, the rest of his skin was a stark, ashy white.  
  
"Celebdur!" Rondiath shouted, "Quickly, bring a healer!"  
  
Celebdur came hurriedly with a healer called Tolbeth, the two newcomers' eyes widened when they say the boy, and the bloody wound on his arm. Tolbeth knelled by the young elf immediately, she took his arm gently and examined the wound. She was worried by the way his skin was deathly pale, and his forehead and the wound were casting enough heat to warm a whole room.  
  
"Set up camp," Tolbeth instructed, "Put up one of the tents and a cot with extra blankets, and I'll need hot water."  
  
Celebdur and the others of the company went to work setting up the camp and the sickbay, Tolbeth and Ansatin, her assistant that she was training looked after the boy. The tent for the healer and apprentice went up first; Ansatin built a fire outside the tent and fetched water from a nearby stream to boil while Tolbeth examined their charge's wound and to see what was causing the infection.  
  
When Ansatin brought in the water, Tolbeth took a cloth, dipped it in the steaming water, and preceded to wipe away the dirt, sweat and dried blood from the long, deep laceration on her patient's arm careful of the stitches that were holding the wound together.  
  
Ansatin came over to his master, "Can we take the old stitches out, Master Tolbeth?" He asked.  
  
"No, he'll bleed to death before we could sew it again because the infection is too strong now, it's naur." Tolbeth said to her student.  
  
Ansatin's eyes widened with the one word, naur was a virus that infected fresh, bloody wounds. The infection caused the victim to bleed twice what they should if cut. If wounds that were infected weren't sewed at once, or if the stitches were removed the victim could bleed to death within minutes.  
  
"Then what do we do?" Ansatin asked.  
  
"We'll stitch up the points that are bleeding and see if there is any falmau growing near. It will slow the infection, but to cure it we will have to let it run it's course." Tolbeth answered. There was no cure for the naur, they would have to wait and see if the young elf had enough strength left to survive. // (End flashback)  
  
Legolas grimaced slightly as a twinge was sent through his left arm, not much this time. The old stitches had never been able to come out, and never would be, the infection had damaged the blood vessels too much.  
  
He hadn't wanted to stay with them, but they didn't want to let him go. It wasn't imprisonment, he and anyone else was free to go whenever they wished. He guessed the longing to be somewhere was greater then he had expected and he had stayed. They were good people, but they were rumors spread about them, and anyone who did follow them. Celebdur was their leader, not just because he was the one who had started the band, him and Rondiath and few others had been outcasts and had picked up anyone who wished to stay with them, Celebdur was the wisest of them all, and had compassion for everything that was on Middle Earth.  
  
Still, the elf felt out of place. He was more aloof then the others and even though there other elves in the band, but there were not many............not many elves were outcast for their homes to begin with.  
  
'If you wanted to runaway you should have *runaway*.' His tortured him again and again. The only thing he seemed to have left to feel was hollowness.  
  
"Legolas." Someone called pulling him from thought.  
  
"Yes?" He answered. It was Rondiath.  
  
"So, seeking the solace of the river?" He asked going over to stand next to the elf.  
  
"I needed to get away from everyone for a while." He said blandly, Rondiath snorted slightly.  
  
"I came to ask you about something that Celebdur asked you about a few nights ago." Rondiath informed him.  
  
"What is it?" Legolas asked rising.  
  
"About this." Rondiath produced the small silver ring. "Celebdur wanted to know if you recognized this, and if you knew the boy that wore it."  
  
Legolas stared pointedly at Rondiath; the silver of his own eyes seemed like a cold frost of old pain over the sapphire.  
  
"Yes, I did." He said simply coolly, but not without an undertone of anger, pain and a blizzard of other emotions.  
  
"What happened to him?" the other asked offering the band to the elf that took it gingerly in his hand this time, fingering it gently as if it might bite. His felt his chest swell, his eyes grew hard and the tone of his voice grew bitter.  
  
"He's dead!" He said more sharply then intended and threw the ring to the ground and walk away.  
  
TBC  
  
There! Are you happy now!?  
  
Just review please and continue to keep giving me swift kicks to remind me to keep my butt in gear! 


	11. Chapter Eleven: Dreams

Here's chapter 11, enjoy!!  
  
On a text note this chapter contains dreams sequences, some any thing you see marked by these: // are a dream, anything else is the real world. This does not apply to any previous chapter though.  
  
Chapter Eleven: Dreams  
  
Darkness encompassed Mirkwood and Thranduil still paced his chambers, how could he had forgotten, how could he have done, such a thing? He had gone to his wife's drawing room hoping to find some trace of her to bring back happier memories. Then the next that his old memories possessed was waking up in the healer's ward with a stab wound on his shoulder, and Legolas was gone. Searching parties had gone out, but no trace was ever found of him, after a long, long time, the court and eventually Thranduil gave up hope on finding the prince.  
  
Sitting on his bed the king let out a long sigh. His memory still was failing him, the only pieces he had been able to recover was what he had done that had made his son leave. He lay back on his bed to see if sleep would come, hopefully with luck he coax his mind into a dreamless sleep.  
  
~*~  
  
Up in the beech tree again, Legolas watched the stars sink back into their blue-black blanket of the heaves. He knew that sleep would find him, weather he wanted it to or not. And the nightmares would have free reign with him.  
  
He leaned against the bark stared at the silent star spangled sky, hoping that maybe he would be granted a dreamless sleep this night.  
  
~*~  
  
//Darkness, a bleak darkness surrounded him with a crushing grasp. The trees of the green wood would were swaying with a gloomy melody. The Elvin king looked through the trees and found where he was. In a grove of rowan trees a brook ran through the hollow. At the base of a rose wood tree near the edge of the grove his wife's grave stood. This had been her and her family's favorite stop in the forest.  
  
Standing near the grave was a tall figure in a snowy white gown. Her silver blue eyes were cast on the ground, her golden hair was lose around her arms save for the strands that were twisted away from her face in typical elven style.  
  
Atarwen turned her head slightly and looked at him, her blue eyes like two pale sapphires. Every fiber of Thranduil's being wished to run to her, but he bound somehow by some invisible rope that held him tight and would not release him. All he could do was get her gaze and look on her with a desperate longing to hold her again.  
  
Atarwen smiled and held up her arms, the king struggled against what was holding him with fury. His wife's eyes looked confused as she saw that her husband would not come to her. Slowly she somehow began to fade away.  
  
"No!" Thranduil shouted and with one great strain he broke away and ran with all his strength to her. Folding his arms around her, he buried one hand into her soft gold hair and held on to her like he never leave this moment. //  
  
~*~  
  
//The forest was wide and open with the sun shining down through the leaves. The rowan grave was green and smelled of newly opened flowers. The stream's water was clear as crystal, and it sang with quite rapture. Looking to the rose wood tree, Legolas saw that his mother's grave was not there as it should be. All he saw was a elf woman standing at the tree in a white gown. Tall, familiar, beautiful.  
  
Atarwen's arms wrapped around her son, one around his back, and her other hand was buried in his hair, she held him with a tight, protecting grasp as if not to leave this moment forever. //  
  
~*~  
  
// Thranduil felt some change, some object being replaced. His wife's frame had changed somehow. The hair was shorter as well has the height had changed and was now shorter as well. The hair still golden but strait like his, and not wavy as his wife's was. Although when he looked down into the face, the same silvery blue eyes greeted him. //  
  
~*~  
  
// The embrace had changed somehow, his mother's form was now taller, and the hair was now strait but still golden. The white gown was now dark green robes, and when he looked up, Legolas saw the face of one he had never thought or hoped to see again. //  
  
~*~  
  
// Thranduil was taken aback at first as he stared into the pale blue eyes that now held an image of surprised fear. His son backed away from him only a little though. The Elvin king had not seen him in such a long while that he didn't recognize him at first. He had grown tall and his stature had changed dramatically from a child to a youth that teetered on the edge of adulthood.  
  
He knew what he had done to the younger elf, but he didn't know why. He loved his son, he did, by all the stars in heaven he did! He could never forgive himself for the betrayal that he had done to him, and he would be surprised if his son did. He reached out one of his hands and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his child's face. If only he could tell him how sorry he was! If only he knew how much he did love him. He was his son, what ever happened that night to make him forget it Thranduil thought could only have been a demon wanting to destroy them both.  
  
"I'm sorry Legolas, I'm so sorry........." he whispered softly //  
  
~*~  
  
// Legolas had backed away from the older elf less then he had excepted, and didn't know why he did. Old fear had spiked through his heart when he had looked up and saw him. But he didn't look the same way he remembered. The Elf king looked like he had aged a century, though he and his mother had been gone much, much less then that. The grey eyes that had always held a aura of authority were now softer and marred by loss.  
  
What had happened that awful night many long years ago was forever burned into his memory. The horror of watching, as his father seemed driven insane by some unknown force. The pain caused by the tearing open of his flesh and the need to defend himself lest he be stabbed to death. The pain seemed still as fresh as a bleeding wound, and it was so deep it seemed to have never gone away. He had fled from Mirkwood and nearly died, he had found friends and found that there were others like him, but no one ever knew who he was. The emptiness that plagued at his heart always threatened to crush him, he was alone, lost and had nowhere to go and on one to trust.  
  
As his father continued to stare at him, he saw in the grey eyes a sorrow that glazed over them like a early frost. And when the older elf raised his hand and touched his face as he brush a stray lock of his hair from his face, he didn't back away. He heard a voice inside his head begging with a sorrow-laden tone.  
  
"I'm sorry.........I'm so sorry.........." //  
  
~*~  
  
Bolting up from his bed, Thranduil took quick panting breaths as he tried to collect himself.  
  
What had happened?  
  
The rowan grove..........the stream............the rose wood tree..........his wife................his son.........  
  
It had been a dream, but the sorrow from that nighttime aspiration still lingered in the air around him, and showed him what had been in his heart all along. But how could he ever tell the person who needed to hear it? His child that he did love more then the waking world, and that one horrid, mad night that had changed everything, he wished he could take back with all his heart.  
  
~*~  
  
Legolas' eyes snapped open as he came back to the waking world. Tonight he had not revisited the nightmare that had plagued him for years, his mother, his father.........what did it mean? His father's image came before him again. Not the one that he had seen in his nightmares, but the one he had just seen. Worn, tired, and sorrowful. The way he had touched his face, the way his voice sounded.  
  
A soft breeze shook the leaves of the tree and showed the Evening Star. Eärendil was as bright as ever but something seemed to change. Bright and beautiful as it always was, but something had changed and for one fleeting moment he understood what the change was. It was only for a few seconds at most, but it had happened. Eärendil, Star of High Hope, the light radiating from the Evening Star actually burned brighter, and a soft, whispering melody slowly began to play. It lasted only a few moments before fading away, but it was a sound that Legolas had not heard in a very, very long time, and the few seconds washed some strange peace over his heart. Like the waves of healing.  
  
TBC  
  
See, I can be prompt when I want to be!!!  
  
It's getting close to the end now, this fic maybe completed in a few more chapters!!!!! 


	12. Chapter Twelve: No Tears Left to Cry

Ok, I'm back! And on time!!! Can you believe it????  
  
The end is approaching my friends!!! Maybe in another chapter or two, but never fear, I will always have new stories coming in!  
  
Brief note on this chapter: I know it said that some healing began at the end of the last chapter, but our elf still has to suffer some more!  
  
Chapter Twelve: No tears left to cry  
  
When this began  
  
I had nothing to say  
  
And I get lost  
  
In the nothingness  
  
Inside of me  
  
I was confused  
  
And I let it all out  
  
Only to find  
  
That I'm not the only person  
  
With these things  
  
In mind  
  
Inside of me  
  
But all the vacancy  
  
The words reveled  
  
Is the only real thing  
  
I've got left to fell  
  
Nothing to lose  
  
Just stuck  
  
Hollow and alone  
  
And the fault is my own  
  
And the fault is my own  
  
The tree's occupant slid down its branches to the ground and began to stroll idly, it had been only a moment, but for the first time in a very long time, the stars had begun to sing. He had almost forgotten what it had sounded like, and that just made it more beautiful.  
  
But the dream...? The rowan grove, the rosewood tree, the missing grave, his mother...his father...  
  
This dream had not been the same nightmare that had plagued him for years, but it was a dream! But the image was as clear before him as ever, the sight of his mother not as his last memory of her, but tall and lovely as she had always been in life. Thranduil, his father.... absentmindedly Legolas touched the side of his forehead where the other elf had brushed away a loss piece of his hair in the dream, it was almost as if he had really felt a touch to his temple, a different one then he had remembered from long ago.  
  
The scars from the past still showed, in many more ways then one, and he was not sure if they would ever close and heal but....  
  
It all had seemed so real; it was almost like he was still there, still in the dream.... still seeing his father before him, his grey eyes so aged and sad.... maybe it had been real, but could it had been? His mother was dead, and the image of his father had been warped many times, even from the brief meeting they had a few days ago.  
  
Old anger began to flare up again. The loss, the betrayal, the pain... pain, he knew it so well. The pain had twisted his heart so, like that of a cracked ruined hearth after a fire. Hot, hard, scard, and dead. The turning of his heart to all the pain had made him deaf to the stars, and left him without tears. He had never wept since that one night.  
  
Life was nor easy in this band, not only the hardship that were laid on their shoulders from the fear and discrimination that was set in the minds of other people that came across them, but every person in this company bore scars and wounds on their souls. And since they wandered all over Middle Earth old reminders of whatever caused their wounds turned up somewhat frequently. The elf had seen the grief that burdened everyone here and he himself carried it as well, but somehow he had never been able to find the respite from his comrades as the others did.  
  
This was perhaps because that the others had their tears, they had tears for their sorrows, and Legolas had none left to cry. He had sat and comforted friends as others had, but the others cried with them, he did not.  
  
The stories of old told of elves that had forsaken their immortality, that long-suffering tale of the elf maiden who loved a mortal. In the tale the others had always asked her way she stayed when there was no hope. Why did these Shadow People linger together when there is no hope? Why did he linger? The maid in the legend held on for her love, but what were they holding on to? What had the world left for them?  
  
What had the world left for them, but each other?  
  
Were they all here because they were the only ones that could understand? But how could a wounded heart ever feel again? It could feel when it healed. Their hearts had healed, so they had their tears, his hadn't.  
  
But the star's song... how could the hollow heart hear their song?  
  
A prick had been made, it was tiny though... but it was there, the merest light of hope had shone it's light. But it was not much. Not enough to make him feel again...  
  
Nothing would be felt until the scars faded and the wounds healed...  
  
But when? Who could know when or how?  
  
TBC  
  
On a small note, I kind of sort of stole the no tears thing from another author too. I'm so terrible! But isn't it said that our best idea's come from others? Well I was reading a book of fairy tales and I came across a line in The Little Mermaid:  
  
"She would have wept for such sorrow, but a mermaid has no tears, so she suffers all the more."  
  
Hans Christian Anderson, my favorite author of fairy tales, I couldn't help it!!  
  
I'm trying to figure out how I kept Legolas from fading; they say the depression is turned inwardly, (Thank you farfulng) but it is my personal belief that Sigmund Freud wouldn't touch even the most well adjusted elf with a ten-foot couch!!  
  
Well guys see ya soon in chapter 13, over and out. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Time To Heal

Chapter Thirteen: Time To Heal  
  
I wanna heal  
  
I wanna feel  
  
What I thought was never real  
  
I wanna let go all the pain  
  
I felt so long  
  
Erase all the pain till its gone  
  
I wanna heal  
  
I wanna feel  
  
Like I'm close to something real  
  
I wanna find something I wanted  
  
All along  
  
Somewhere I belong..." – Linkin Park 'Somewhere I Belong'  
  
There was a small rustle in the brush that interrupted the laughing of the stream, Rochwen tensed with all senses ready, her hand going to the sword hilt at her side. Unsheathing her weapon, the sentry commander slowly began to search the clearing for hidden dangers.  
  
There was sudden hand on her shoulder, and Rochwen spun 'round and the sharp edge of her blade rested against Legolas' neck.  
  
"Don't do that!" Rochwen said letting out an annoyed breath.  
  
"Sorry." He apologized as she replaced her sword in its sheath.  
  
Rochwen was a tall slender maid, as all elven women were. Her long red hair was braided back from her pale faced showing dark green eyes that seemed to have a life of their own. She had come from a village near Lothlórien, her mother had gone to the Halls of Waiting when she was and infant and after marauding orcs killed her father she was taken to her nearest kin north of the Misty Mountains. Rochwen had always been head strong and skillful in the warring arts, traits that her uncle and two cousins had found irrelevant for a woman. Treated as a servant rather then a relative by the three men, her short temper had earned her many beatings from them. Refusing to be nothing more then a slave, Rochwen took the sword that had been her father's and was now her's and ran away, still a young girl. The Shadow People had found her and Legolas in that same year, and they were the only two in the camp that were nearly the same age, and the two of them had grown up together.  
  
"What are you doing out this late?" She asked the other elf, her ire was up more for many of the her guards were sick from the jump in the icy water from when they had made their exsape, and had not had much time to rest.  
  
"You looked tired going out tonight, I thought to relive to so you get some sleep." He answered innocently.  
  
"Thanks," She said, for now she was too tired to argue with him and she was glad to have the break, "You're a prince."  
  
Legolas watched her turn and leave through the brambles; the stream continued her sweet, dulcet, melody. Absentmindedly the elf sat a dangled his left hand and wrist in the cool water. The stream's water washed over the abrasion, numbing his flesh and bringing him some reprieve.  
  
As thee current swayed, his fingers brushed over something. Impulsively he looked to see what it was, it felt sooth like a river stone but there was a large hole in its center. The moon's light reflected off in a silver reflection, and he pulled from the bank a silver loop.  
  
There was a familiar squeeze at his heart, but its contraction didn't leave the same ache. Whimsically Legolas wondered if Rochwen knew she was close to the truth. But that idle thought was disregarded, that boy died a long time ago.  
  
The stars sank back in their blue-black blanket of heaven, and soft humming started to swell.  
  
Legolas looked up quickly, not because the stars were singing again, but because he knew the voice that singing. The soft melody was sung by a voice he had not heard for years, save his nightly demons.  
  
Atarwen's voice flooded the glade, bringing memories the elf had long forgotten and the scars of his heart began to close.  
  
The small ring he fingered, and he slipped over his finger, it now only fit on his small one. It was time.  
  
These were his friends, these were his people, and it was time to face his fears like his people had.  
  
TBC  
  
One more chapter!!!  
  
Maybe two, but I'm not sure, but the end is coming soon. It's been great to have such great readers as you. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen: New Danger

Chapter Fourteen: New Danger  
  
This is just a little filler chappie while I beat out the next! Remember reviews, reviews, reviews, reviews!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Celebdur was awakened from his sleep to someone shaking his shoulder. Ansatin was frantic and pale as a ghost and breathless from running.  
  
"The woods are under attack, we need to leave!" He blurted out before Celebdur could even look at him.  
  
"Calm down, get your breath, now what is happening?" The captain said as he sat up and put his hands on the young man's shoulders calming his anxiety.  
  
The healer apprentice paused and took some deep breaths before continuing .  
  
"I saw a war party stopping for a rest. They were orcs, they were sent from Dol Gour (I have no idea if that is spelled right or not!) they going to try to attack the Elf king's halls and try to take them." He said after calming.  
  
"Start rousing everyone," Celebdur said quickly and standing up, "Tell them to start packing up the camp, we should be ready to move out in the morning." Ansatin and Celebdur went about stirring everyone from their sleep, the group of forty moved quickly.  
  
Celebdur knelt by Rochwen, "Rochwen wake up." She stirred clearing her eyes from deep dreaming, and asked why the haste. As Celebdur explained to her she rushed to her guards to tell them of the new danger. As Rochwen slapped back the brambles to the river she didn't see the other elf she expected. She searched the glade but found no trace off him, just as she was about to panic Celebdur came out of the brush.  
  
"Have you seen Legolas?" They both asked simultaneously.  
  
"He relived me a few hours ago, that was the last time I saw him." Rochwen said.  
  
Celebdur quitted her side and went to the banks of the stream. Rondiath had told him that he had left the tiny ring there, of course he had questioned Rondiath on this tactic, and Rondiath had told him to trust him on the idea. Rondiath knew Legolas, and Celebdur trusted the other man on his actions. Celebdur scanned the area and found no trace of the band.  
  
"Of all the times to make amends you pick now?!" Celebdur grumbled under his breath.  
  
"What?" Rochwen asked.  
  
"He's gone back." The captain said.  
  
"Gone back where?" The elf said with a hint of annoyance, she was not fond of riddles.  
  
Celebdur knew that Legolas would not want the captain too tell what he knew of his past to anyone, but Rochwen was one of Legolas' best friends. They were the same age and they had grown up like brother and sister together. Rochwen had the right to know.  
  
"Rochwen," Celebdur began, "You wondered how Legolas knew the cells in Elf King's halls?" Rochwen nodded and wondered if Celebdur had a pointing this. "He's the king's son. He was nearly dead when we found him, I still don't know what happened to him but when we found him he was wearing a ring with an emblem on it, Tolbeth knew that it was Mirkwood's royal house insignia. Now he's gone back, and now of all times..."  
  
Rochwen hung back, "Legolas is a prince." She said with questioning, trying to discern the story like it was a puzzle. A prince? Legolas? Her quiet, moody, headstrong best friend was a prince? But then there was another point; Legolas had gone out alone and with no knowledge of the new danger. "We're not going without him?" Rochwen more stated then asked.  
  
"No," Celebdur said to her, "You gather a searching party and tell the others to move out, when we find him we'll catch back up with them." Rochwen went to find some people while Celebdur went to Tolbeth and left her in charge and lead the others out of the wood.  
  
The dawn misted and the two parties set out one out of Mirkwood, the other headed deeper into the forest. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Capture

Chapter Fifteen: Captured

A steady, stubborn misting rain soaked Mirkwood that long day, and it turned to a downpour forcing Legolas to find a dry nest of bracken amongst the giant roots of ancient oak tree, the thick canopy of leaves hanging from the upper branches sheltering the elf from the rain. He knew that he was not far from the halls of the king, but how to get there was another matter. The hardest part to contemplate was what to say to the king... his father...

He had been planning to take the trip one step at a time, but he had not been able to keep himself from pondering and perturbing over future events, but still when he had made up his mind there was no questioning his resolve, Rondiath, Celebdur and Rochwen could ensure anyone of that. He began to wonder about his comrades back at camp, he dourly wondered if Rondiath had burst a blood vessel in his neck or if Celebdur had broke out the searching parties, and or, lynch mob yet. Or would that be the other way around?

Thunder sounded overhead and gloomy grey clouds that looked like a blurry cold blanket blocked the sun out. The trees were stained a dismal brownish-green, and their limbs and foliage hung low with weight of the rain on them and they almost looked like they were crying as water droplets fell from the leaf tips. No birds or other wildlife sounded in the underbrush, they had retreated to their dwellings to wait out the deluge.

Legolas was nearly dozing when his sensitive hearing picked up a strange sound. He scrambled up the oaks limbs and took shelter under a thick veil of damp leaves. For the Shadow People observing approaching noises unnoticed was first impulse, but this was different. The sound he heard did not belong in a woodland realm, much less an elven one. Legolas stretched out full length on his stomach keeping close to the branch and covering of leaves, but was able to observe the clearing that he had just retreated from.

Orcs.

A throng of the beasts came to stand under the tree until they were rendezvoused by another troop. What were these things doing so far from the south of the forest from Dol Guldur? The sound of the Black Speech mixed with the Common Tongue stung his ears, but the elf managed to make out enough to find out what they were planning to do. They had heard of the clash with Shadow People and were going to try and attack the Elf King's gates hoping that the confusion of the last days would give them the wining edge. One of them stopped talking abruptly and began to sniff hard; Legolas's hand went to the bow on his back and readied it with one fluid motion that didn't disturb one raindrop on his perch.

"What do you smell?" One of the beasts asked.

"Elf flesh." Was the answer, and the other began to look up, searching the tree limbs above them, Legolas knocked an arrow to the bowstring.

Legolas hugged his bleeding arm to his side, and glared up at the orc that held him on his knees.

"What have we here?" The vile thing asked.

Legolas saw his mother's bloodied face, and he thrashed at his opponents again. Another orc twisted his left arm, ripping a few more of the stitches, fortunately for the elf they were the smaller ones that Tolbeth had made years earlier and the older ones that held back the more serious bleeding were still intact.

"Must be a scout!" One of the vile creatures offered, "Kill him!" this one must be a lesser commander because the rest of the pack was ready to obey him.

"I give the orders around here!" The large one in front of Legolas snarled backing away from him a little to smack the other that had contradicted him. "Besides he's no scout he came in these woods with those outcasts remember?" The creature then seemed to try to think, if that was possible with these creatures.

"And I know your face..." The leader mumbled, he suddenly he grabbed a fistful of Legolas' hair looking into his eyes, "You're in league with the wood elves, aren't you?!" He growled, "How many are behind you?"

Legolas shot out his hind to try and get the leader back, but the orc caught his hand and was read to twist his arm again and break open all the stitches completely, when he noticed the silver band oh his finger.

"What is this?" The orc captain asked as he pulled it off, then it all made sense to him. "Well it looks like we have the prince of Mirkwood here! Don't tell me you've forgotten, Gurut " He announced hold up the ring for all to see, and shouting the last phrase at the second-in-command.

How did he of people know who he was? The question hammered in Legolas' mind, but it was soon answered.

"I wonder if it takes any longer to him scream then it did when he was little?" The lesser captain, Gurut, hinted.

When he and his mother had been captured the woods had been scoured and when they were found the company of warriors had slaughtered the band that had taken the two members of the royal house. All had been killed but two of the captains had been killed, and that orc had captured him again.

"He's more useful alive." The head captain said, "Do you not think that the elf king will lay down arms in exchange for his brat's life?" The disappointment on the faces of the other orcs did not last long as he added, "Though, it might hasten the elf king's decision if he's not in one piece when we show him." And he dug his back nail into Legolas' face, and drawing line of blood down his face and let the other's approach.

Why didn't I write the fight sequence? It's about 3 AM and I'm tired, I know we love elf angst, but just calm down, there may be torture ahead!


End file.
